Mamá Lupita
by Chapin CSI
Summary: GSR. Romance. During the ABRTI investigation, Sara meets a strange woman who offers to help her get the man of dreams... With a love potion! Find out how Mamá Lupita helped Sara conquer Gil's heart.
1. Chapter 1

MAMA LUPITA

I started this story right after 'A bullet runs through it'. At the time, I had a deep dislike for Sofia, and it shows. I didn't finish the story at the time because I had lost hope of ever seeing G&S together; then I saw Spellbound, and it seemed that there were just too many similarities.

Now that GS are together, I've felt a renewal of enthusiasm. (I loved the season finale, btw. I just wish GSR-haters would stop complaining)

Anyway, this story's a bit silly, so please be indulgent.

There's a glossary at the end.

Spoiler: ABRTI, GM

* * *

The streets of the barrio were deserted. 

"This is useless," Sara muttered, "They won't tell us anything."

Nick Stokes and Sara Sidle had spent hours knocking on doors, hoping in vain to find witnesses to the shootings. Either the neighbors were downtown protesting, or they just didn't want to cooperate.

"Cheer up." Nick said, "This is the last block."

Most of the houses had little patches of dirt up front, the remnants of gardens no one had cared for. There was one exception, and for some reason Nick and Sara walked towards this house. Maybe they figured that someone who kept a struggling garden would at least try to answer a few questions.

Their assumption paid off; when they knocked, a female voice called out from inside, "Entre!"

"She says we can come in," Nick said.

To his surprise, the door was open. He cautiously peered in. "Buenos días?"

"Entra, m'hijo." The woman's voice responded.

Nick stepped inside, Sara following close behind. They found themselves inside a modest parlor. A couch and a little table laden with magazines were the only pieces of furniture.

It looked like a waiting room of some sort.

A gloomy waiting room, at that. Nick used his MagLite to examine the religious stamps pinned on the wall.

"There's a door," Sara said, only it wasn't a door, but a heavy curtain. She tentatively parted it. "Hello?"

"Entre!" the woman repeated.

Nick joined Sara. They entered a room that was heavily scented with incense.

Sara started to cough.

"You ok?" Nick asked.

"The smell got to me." She muttered, "I'm fine," she added, and to prove that she was, she determinedly shone her MagLite around.

This room was larger than the parlor, but it gave the impression of being smaller. It was certainly gloomier, the only light coming from a few votive candles strategically placed here and there.

The walls were lined with shelves that held an impressive collection of crystal jugs of different shapes and sizes, all of them filled with various objects and colorful powders.

Nick looked closely at one of the jugs.

"Corazón de murciélago," he read aloud.

"What's that?" Sara asked.

"Bat's heart."

"Yummy," Sara muttered.

Apart from the shelves, the only other pieces of furniture were in the middle of the room -a few mismatched chairs, and a round table covered with a lacy cloth.

There was a huge bundle of rags on top of a chair, and Nick directed his beam of light there. The rags suddenly moved, as if reacting to the light. Spooked, Nick and Sara instinctively took a step back.

"Buenos días." The voice called out again. It was coming from the rags.

The two CSIs took a step forward. There was a woman there, seemingly buried under old shawls and lace mantillas. Graying curls spilled from a flowered handkerchief that was tightly wrapped around her head. She smiled, making the lines on her face more pronounced. It was an old face, but her smile was like a child's.

She looked at them placidly, as if they were mere guests she'd been expecting. .

"Bienvenidos." She said languidly. She slowly shifted in her seat and then she delicately placed both hands on the table, her palms up.

Nick and Sara looked incredulously at each other, and then they looked back at the woman's hands –or more exactly, at what lay between them. It was an object they had seen in movies –bad movies, that is. A crystal ball.

Sara cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, hum, ma'am." She started, "We're, hum." She felt suddenly tongue-tied.

The woman smiled benignedly.

"Todos son bienvenidos a la casa de Mamá Lupita." She said.

Nick took a step forward.

"Gracias, mamá Lupita." He said respectfully, "Uh, mi compañera no habla español..."

The woman smiled.

"Welcome," she said in heavily accented English, "Everybody's welcome to Mamá Lupita's house." She said pleasantly. She looked from Nick to Sara, and then back to Nick. "Tu hablas bien el español." She said. She tilted her head towards Sara, "Deberías enseñarle a tu novia."

"No es mi novia." Nick said quickly. "Mi compañera de trabajo." He added. He took a step forward, "I'm Nick Stokes, and this is Sara Sidle; we're with the crime lab, and we're asking the neighbors a few questions-"

"You're here because of the shooting." she said knowingly, and the she shook her head. "It's been a bad day for business." She sighed, "Yesterday, I told everyone that today would be a good day, and look at that mess outside..." she shook her head. "You came for a tarot reading?"

"Uh, no." Sara said, "We're here to -"

"Good," Mamá Lupita scowled, "Because I stink at tarot reading." Then she smiled her child-like smile again, "But I can fix you a good love potion, eh?" she offered, and then she glanced down at her crystal ball, "Or I can look into your future..."

"Uh, no, thanks." Sara said, "You've just said you kind of failed in that area."

"Ah, but that was because of the cards. I'm still practicing. I'm good with the crystal ball, though." she put her hands on the ball and caressed it.

Sara rolled her eyes.

"Mama Lupita, if you didn't actually see anything-"

"Sit," Mamá Lupita said.

There was something in her tone that prompted Nick and Sara to obey. Nick took the chair opposite Mamá Lupita's. Sara's chair was a bit wobbly, but she managed to sit comfortably on it.

"So," Nick said, "Did you see anyone running or acting suspiciously -"

"All the time," Mamá Lupita scowled again. "All I _need_ to see, I see here," she said, turning her gaze back into her crystal ball. She took a deep breath, "I see a longing heart..." she whispered. "Longing for an impossible love... an indifferent love..." she glanced at Sara. "An older love..." she finished.

Sara blushed but didn't say anything.

Mama Lupita looked at the ball again.

"I see something else," she said, "Pain... loneliness..." She briefly closed her yes, "I see tears... Many, many tears."

Fighting her feelings of embarrassement, Sara shifted in her seat.

"I didn't -" she mumbled, "I wasn't -"

"Not you," Mamá Lupita interrupted, "Him," she added, glancing at Nick.

Nick blushed.

"I... er..."

Sara intervened.

"He recently went through a traumatic experience," She explained.

"Oh, yes." Mama Lupita said, looking at the ball again, "I see an enclosed space... I can feel his fear..." she frowned, "I can also hear some singing. Awful singing, in a van. Texan love songs…"

"It helps pass the time…" Nick mumbled.

"I can also hear his screams. Many screams. Boy, did he scream -"

"All right, that's enough," Nick interrupted uncomfortably, "Did you or did you not see anything that might be useful to our investigation?"

"Yeah," Sara sneered, "Can your crystal ball tell us who the shooters were?"

"The crystal only allows me look into the souls of those who enter this humble abode..." She said, "And into the souls of those who reside in my visitors' hearts," she added, looking from Sara to Nick.

She turned her attention back to the crystal ball, "I see a man. A man with a graying beard and a mustache... A man who is by himself, even in a crowd." She looked up at Nick and then at Sara, and then she closed her eyes. "He's been in your minds lately-" she whispered, "One wants to be like him-"

Nick glanced at Sara.

"That's got to be you-" he smirked.

"And the other wants to be loved by him." Mamá Lupita finished.

Sara frowned.

"Nick?" she asked suspiciously.

"Hey, no way," Nick said, rising his hands in self-defense, "That's not true!"

"You want to be like him," Mamá Lupita said, glancing at Nick. Then she looked at Sara, "And you...You want his love."

Sara paused for only a second.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled uncomfortably.

Nick smiled to himself. He knew exactly what Mama Lupita was talking about, and he knew that Sara knew, too. She just didn't want to talk about it, and Nick understood.

He rose.

"Sorry for taking your time, ma'am." He said, "I think we should be going -"

"Talvez tu amiga quiere quedarse un poco más." Mamá Lupita replied, not looking at him but at Sara.

Sara rose from her chair, but she didn't make a move to leave.

"Sara?" Nick said, but Sara's gaze was fixed on Mamá Lupita's.

"Vete tú," the old lady, "Déjanos solas un momento."

Nick hesitated. He didn't think this a good idea, but on the other hand, maybe Sara simply needed someone to talk to.

"Sara?" he said, "Do you want me to wait outside?"

Sara hesitated.

"It'll only take a minute," she said, taking a seat again.

* * *

TBC 

Glossary.

Barrio (neighborhood.)

Entra, m'hijo. (Come in, my son, (figurative).

Buenos días (Good morning)

Bienvenidos (welcome)

Todos son bienvenidos a la casa de Mamá Lupita. (Everyone's welcome at Mamá Lupita's house.)

Gracias, mamá Lupita. Mi compañera no habla español. (Thanks. My partner doesn't speak Spanish.)

Tu hablas bien el español. Deberías enseñarle a tu novia. (You speak Spanish well; you should teach your girlfriend.)

No es mi novia. Mi compañera de trabajo (She isn't my girlfriend, she's my coworker.)

Talvez tu amiga quiere quedarse un poco más. (Maybe your friend wants to stay.)

Vete tú," the old lady said, "Déjanos solas un momento. (Go. Leave us alone a little while.)


	2. Chapter 2

MAMA LUPITA

Part two

Spoiler: Strip Strangler, A bullet runs through it.

Romance, a little humor, a little fantasy…

* * *

Once Nick left, Mama Lupita felt more at ease with Sara. She leant forward. 

"So," she said, "Do you want my help?"

Unfortunately, now that they were alone, Sara didn't seem as willing to talk as before.The idea of talking about Gil made her uncomfortable. It was like a betrayal, or something.

In the end, Sara took the easiest way out, by turning her attention back to the case she was investigating.

"Did you, hum, witness any of the shootings?" she asked.

"No, no," the old woman said, "When shootings start around here, I hide." She lowered her voice, "But I can help _you_." she whispered, "I can give you a potion. A _love_ potion." She added persuasively.

Sara was suddenly conscious of how silly this was. She shook her head.

"Listen, Mamá Lu –er," she couldn't quite remember the name, "Ma,am." She amended, "I think I better be going -" she started to rise from her seat, but the older woman reached for her arm.

"Or I could give you _black_ potion," she said, louder this time, "For the blonde woman that lurks around him."

Sara gaped. How on earth could Mamá Lupita know...?

Sofia Curtis's face floated in her mind. A couple of hours earlier, Sara had entered Grissom's office, only to find Sofia there. Sofia was under a three-day suspension ordered by Internal Affairs, which meant she couldn't enter the LVPD building. By coming to the lab, Sofia was compromising both Grissom and the case.

Sara was surprised that Grissom hadn't pointed this out to Sofia, and so she took it upon herself to do it. She didn't move until Sofia left Grissom's office.

Sara had only been acting in the best interests of the lab -at least, that's whatshe had been telling herself. Deep down, however, she knew better: She simply didn't want Sofia around Grissom, and that was the truth.

That didn't mean she would ever resort to using black potions, or whatever they were called.

"I don't want any potions-"

"But they are really good," Mama Lupita said earnestly, "My tarot readings go wrong –I still need practice. But my potions -" she seemed eager to explain, but something made her stop. It was something she saw on Sara's face. "I see," she said. "You are a decent person."

Mamá Lupita's tone was one of regret as she added, "You won't get far in love, but you'll have a clean conscience." She shook her head, "Pity." She sighed.

She patted Sara's hand. "Still, I can listen."

"There's nothing to say," Sara said evasively, "I've got to -"

"Shhhh. There must be something I can do for you." The older woman replied. "Talking helps."

Sara would never admit it, but it was the kindness behind those words that convinced her to stay. It had been so long since someone had offered a sympathetic ear… And the woman seemed so… _motherly_. Sara couldn't help it; she sat back.

"There's nothing you can do -" she started.

"You don't know that. What is it that you need?"

"Nothing,"Sara said. "Nothing, I... I just..." she hesitated.

"Tell me," Mamá Lupita insisted gently, "Tell me what you dream of. Tell me what your heart yearns for. The man I saw…"

Sara nodded almost imperceptibly.

"You want to know what's in his heart?"

"I know what's in his heart." Sara replied, "At least, I think so. It's enough for me, but it's not enough for him. He'll always keep me at a distance. And there are others, who -" but she didn't finish. She did not want to talk about Sofia. "I wish -" she said impulsively and then she stopped.

"Yes?" Mamá Lupita said, leaning forward again.

It took Sara a couple of false starts, but she finally completed a sentence.

"I wish I were the only one in his mind." .

"And in his heart," Mamá Lupita added knowingly.

"Yes."

"And no more…?"

"I wish I had his devotion." Sara blurted out, and the sudden realization took her by surprise. "That's it," she said, looking at Mamá Lupita in wonder, "I want his complete devotion."

"That I can get for you," Mamá Lupita said, smiling. She pulled a slender stick of incense seemingly out of nowhere, and lit it up with the nearest votive candle. A bluish smoke hung around her as she quietly recited a few phrases in Spanish.

Suddenly, Mamá Lupita thrust the stick of incense at Sara.

The young woman pulled back, but she wasn't fast enough; the bluish smoke enveloped her as if it were a living entity leaping upon her.

Sara coughed and waved her hands, frantically trying to dissipate the smoke.

"Cut that out!" She cried out. She looked at Mamá Lupita, and for the first time she noticed a strange gleam in the older woman's eyes. Too late, Sara realized that trusting this woman may have been a mistake.

Sara pushed back her chair and tried to rise, but her body no longer responded to her mind's commands. She was starting to feel drowsy, too. She tried to fight it, but it was a losing battle; she blinked a couple of times, and then she closed her eyes -

But only for a second -of this, she was absolutely sure. She couldn't have kept her eyes closed for more than a couple of seconds… And yet, when she opened them, she found that she was no longer in Mama Lupita's presence.

What's more, she wasn't even in the old woman's house; she was outside, and in an entirely different neighborhood.

Questioning her sanity, Sara blinked and shook her head, but try as she might, the vision wouldn't fade. And the more she looked around, the more familiar the street seemed.

She'd been here, a while ago-

And then, all of a sudden, Sara knew where she was. She knew that if she dared to turn around she would see a house –Gil Grissom's house.

Sara took a deep breath. She turned.

Part of her didn't really expect to see it -

And yet, there it was. His house, looking just like it did five years earlier.

Sara's body moved on its own this time. Her mind was busily firing up all sort of warning messages, but to no avail; she was moving towards the house, and once she was at the door, her hand rose to knock.

But Sara's will prevailed this time, and her hand stopped in mid-air.

Questions overwhelmed her: What was she going to say? What was _he_ going to say? And what if Grissom wasn't home, anyway?

Worst of all, what if he was? She couldn't imagine what his reaction was going to be if he saw her there…

... And yet, it wasn't that difficult to guess: Grissom would probably gape at her in surprise; he'd simply stand there, looking at her with the slightly baffled expression he wore whenever the subject of feelings came up...

And Sara didn't think she could stand to see that look.

Regretfully, she touched the door in a silent goodbye. She was about to turn and walk away, when the door suddenly opened.

Gil Grissom stood there.

"Sara?" he said.

She was taken aback.

"G-Grissom." She said, managing to sound as if he was the last person she expected to see.

He seemed baffled at the sight of her.

"You wanted to talk to me?" he asked.

"I... hum. Yes." She said, "No. I mean, yeah. But..." she was confused.

Gil smiled. He took a step towards her.

"Is that a no?" he asked gently, "Or is that... a yes?" he asked huskily.

There was something in that huskiness that sent shivers down her spine.

"Er..." she hesitated, "I... I.."

Gil took a step closer.

"You're not usually this tongue tied, Sara." he said, "Maybe I can help you with that."

And before Sara knew it, he was kissing her.

And it was a real kiss, too. Deep and probing, but tender at the same time.

Sara found herself moaning and wrapping her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

It wasn't until they started gasping for air, that they pulled apart at last. But not for long. They kissed again and held each other close.

"Oh, Sara," he whispered in her ear, "I knew it would be like this-"

"Oh, Grissom-"

He pulled back a little.

"Sara?"

"Yes?"

"Don't call me Grissom ever again." he said. "Call me..."

"Yes, Grissom?" She asked earnestly, "I mean -yes?"

"Call me Gil-Bear." he said, and then he pulled her inside the house.

* * *

TBC 

Yep, it's just a fantasy…

Or is it?


	3. Chapter 3

MAMA LUPITA

Part three

Romance, humor, fantasy… and seemingly OOC situations.

I wrote this before Rashomama, so Sara's views on marriage may not coincide with those she expressed on that episode.

Warning: Since 'Gil-bear' _weirded_ out most of you, I rushed to post this, so you knew what it all meant. I did say this was a silly story (remember?); well, _this_ is the silliest chapter, so pleeeeease, bear with me.

* * *

It was just as Sara had envisioned it –it was even better. Countless hours passed in a whirlwind of passion and romance. 

Sara would have given anything for a chance to stay in Gil's arms a little longer, but duty inevitably called. They had to go to work. Still, Grissom seemed to cling to her, and it was only after she promised to come back as soon as their shift ended that he finally let her go.

That night, Sara was the very model of discretion when she came to the lab. Looking at her, nobody would have guessed that just a few hours earlier, she'd been in Gil Grissom's bed.

Unfortunately, Grissom didn't show the same restraint. After he finished assigning the cases for the night, he announced, "Sara, you're with me," and then he winked at her.

Everyone else in the room froze. Sara's coworkers were as shocked as her at first, but after a moment, Nick and Warrick glanced at each other and snickered, and Catherine smiled knowingly.

Sara shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She couldn't believe Gil would do that. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his cute gesture –she did. It just seemed so out of character –and out of place, too.

She tried to find an explanation to his behavior: Was it simply that being in a relationship was so new to him that he didn't know how to behave? Or was he bursting with so much happiness that he couldn't help expressing it?

Whatever the reason, Sara felt they ought to talk. It wasn't like she didn't understand -in fact, she felt just like him. But as much as she wanted to shout, 'Grissom loves me!' at the top of her lungs, she knew discretion was the best policy.

She vowed to talk to Gil as soon as they were alone, but every time she tried to broach the subject, he would gently interrupt her. He'd rather talk about their future together, he said. And he looked so happy, that Sara decided to save their conversation for later.

Besides, now that they were working on a case, Grissom would surely act professionally.

Unfortunately, she was wrong.

They met Sofia Curtis in the interrogation room. She had arrested Ronnie Morris, a petty thief who, according to the evidence, had committed his first murder the night before.

Morris wouldn't sit down. He insisted on pacing up and down the room.

"Your fingerprints were found at the scene," Sara said, "How do you explain that?"

Morris leant menacingly over Sara.

"Don't have to explain nothin'," he said sullenly. "And you and your skinny ass can go to hell."

"Now, wait a minute," Gil exclaimed, angrily shoving the man away from Sara, "You can't talk to her like that."

"It's all right-" Sara started.

"Let me handle this, honey," Grissom said, turning a tender look in her direction, "Now, you," he said, grabbing the suspect by the shoulder and shaking him, "Nobody talks to my lady like that, understand?"

"Hey, this is harassment!" the man protested, looking like a puppet in Gil's hands.

"Call it what you like." Grissom replied, still shaking him, "Now, apologize to her."

"Grissom -" Sofia started.

Sara rose.

"Grissom," she said, "Let's just continue the -"

Grissom turned to Sara.

"Now, honey," he said patiently, "We've already talked about this, haven't we? I asked you not to call me that."

He looked expectantly at her.

Sara froze.

"Right," she said, "Right, I... hum..." she hesitated_. 'Don't say it_,' she told herself firmly, '_Whatever you do, don't say it, don't say it -_' But to her dismay, her mouth opened with a will of its own, and before she could stop herself, the word came out, "Gil-Bear."

A beatific smile graced Grissom's face.

"I love it when you call me like that." He said.

Sofia scoffed noisily and looked away. This pleased Sara enormously, but the feeling of triumph was only fleeting. After all, she couldn't imagine going through life calling Grissom, Gil-Bear.

At least, not publicly.

She definitely had to talk to him.

But she never had a chance. She was just too busy. Gil kept her occupied, both inside the lab... and out of it.

Sara had always wondered and fantasized about making love with Gil-Bear -Grissom, that is. She didn't ask for much; she merely hoped he'd be good to her. Tender and attentive…

She'd just never expected him to be this good, or so… insatiable.

One night, disheveled and exhausted, Sara rolled away from Grissom and turned on the bedside lamp.

"Gil..." she gasped, "Gil... we need to get some sleep -"

"But I love you so much" he said, almost whining, "And we've wasted so many years..."

"And whose fault is that?" she asked dryly.

"Uh, guilty as charged," he admitted, "I just- I just want to make it up to you."

"And you have," she said reassuringly, "Believe me. But we need to take a break. Besides, we're out of condoms."

"Oh, that's ok. We should start a family, Sara; the sooner the better."

Grissom's flippant attitude took her aback.

"W-whoa" she blurted out, "I... hum... Grissom, that's a -"

"Excuse me?" he interrupted.

"I mean, Gil-Bear," she amended a bit testily, "I think we should discuss this. Having a kid would be -"

"A kid? I want five or six, Sara. The more, the merrier."

Her eyes widened.

"Five? But... but... Griss –I mean, Gil-Bear," she amended, "We haven't even had a chance to enjoy being a couple -"

"You're right." He said thoughtfully, "We ought to get married first -"

"Marriage?" she mumbled, backing farther away from him, "Gil, hum, I've never -" She faltered. She wanted to say that she wasn't interested in marriage, but the look Gil gave her was so mournful, that her determination melted. "Ok, ok," she said, "We could get married, I guess. But no frills, no cake, no nothing, ok? Just you and me -"

"Fine," Gil smiled, "Where would you like to go on our honeymoon?"

"Oh, that's ok, Grissom; I don't need a honey -"

"Excuse me?" he interrupted.

"Gil-Bear," she said between clenched teeth.

"We will have a honeymoon, Sara. Just tell me where you want to go."

"I… well… Hum. What about… what about a Caribbean resort?"

"Wherever you want." he said lovingly.

"There's an island close to Barbados." Sara said, with growing enthusiasm, "It's not a popular place, so it's not that expensive. But get this," she added, "According to The National Geographic, there's a unique breed of beetles down there. Maybe you'd like to study them-"

"Oh, no, no, no. I plan to dedicate every hour to you, my beautiful rose."

Sara faltered a little.

"Well," she started, "That's, hum, flattering, but… I need a little time of my own, too, Gil-Bear."

He looked up. There was a wounded expression in his eyes.

"You don't want to be with me?"

She was taken aback. Hurting him was the last thing she'd want to do, but she just couldn't picture herself spending 'every hour' with Grissom. Frankly, she would have expected Gil to appreciate the fact that she was an independent kind of woman.

"Gil, we all need a little time alone." She said patiently, "I mean, you need some time off to take care of your maggot farms, right? Well, I also need some 'me' time. You know, to read, to meditate… If we go to this island, you'll have a chance to study those beetles while I -"

"But I got rid of my maggot farms," he replied, "I plan to dedicate every breathing hour to you from now on. I mean, who cares about Entomology?"

"Whaaaat?" Sara jumped out of bed. She hurriedly picked up a sheet to cover herself. "Grissom, what is the matter with you?"

"Nothing," he said quietly, "I just want to make you happy. Sara. I want to devote my entire life to you." He frowned, "I thought this was what you wanted."

"Well, it's not!" she retorted. "This isn't you, anyway!" She added, as she noticed the look of blind devotion on Gil's eyes.

It was too much.

She couldn't bear looking at him anymore -

Seeking escape, Sara closed her eyes.

…And when she opened them again, she found herself lying on the floor and looking into Mamá Lupita's concerned eyes.

Spooked, Sara sat up abruptly, only to dearly regret it. She felt slightly nauseous.

"Take it easy." Nick said.

Sara glanced up. Both Nick and Mamá Lupita were looming over her. What's more, they were not in the old woman's inner room; they were in the little parlor.

"You ok?" Nick asked.

"What happened?" Sara asked.

"That's what I'd like to know," Nick said, "There was a crash, in there. When I went in, you were on the floor. My guess is, you were having a hallucination brought on by that incense of hers. We got you here, so you got a little clean air." He tilted his head towards the old lady, "She says you fell off your chair -"

"What?" Sara asked incredulously, "I _fell_?"

"Actually, the chair broke," Mamá Lupita intervened.

"The chair broke?" Sara asked, growing more and more alarmed. She looked down at herself. "Am I that heavy?"

"No, no," Mamá Lupita said gently, "The chair was already wobbly."

"But that doesn't explain why you were out for a couple of minutes." Nick said.

"I passed out?" Sara asked, gingerly touching her head. "But I don't have a concussion."

"Actually, you kind of … fainted." Mamá Lupita said sheepishly, "You had an allergic reaction -"

"A what?" Sara looked at Nick, "Do you know what she's talking about?"

"Actually, I do have an idea." He scowled, "I did a little research on this lady, here. Once I left you two alone, it suddenly struck me, the fact that I was so willing to leave you alone, and the fact that Mamá Lupita knew way too much about us -"

"Well," the old lady cleared her throat, "My crystal ball..."

Nick ignored the interruption.

"So, I called headquarters for a little information on Mamá Lupita."

"And?" Sara insisted.

"And… I found out that this is Mrs. Guadalupe Vega, the dear aunt of Las Vegas detective Ricardo Vega."

Sara winced.

"_Our_ detective Vega?" she asked. She glanced at the old lady, "So, that's how you knew all about Nick and his kidnapping-"

"Actually," Mamá Lupita said sheepishly, "I read all about it on the papers."

Sara frowned.

"What about me? You seemed to know all about me and –hum- " she hesitated.

"Oh, that was pure gossip." The old lady said dismissively, "My nephew tells me everything that goes on in that building."

Sara briefly closed her eyes in embarrassment. Here she was, thinking she'd been discreet, while all along people around her had noticed about her and Gil, and-

"Wait a minute," Sara frowned, "You nephew couldn't know about -" She caught herself on time. Aware that Nick was looking at her, she added, "About the, hum, blonde woman-"

"Oh, honey," Mamá Lupita rolled her eyes, "In my experience, there's always a blonde involved."

"Excuse me," Nick said, "This doesn't explain the rest of your story, lady. You're obviously using illicit drugs in your concoctions; our behavior in there," he added, tilting his head toward her inner room, "leads me to believe you used an hallucinogen on us. You must have used one on Sara -"

"I do not use hallucinogens!" Mamá Lupita replied indignantly, "I only use herbs, all natural, from my own garden! When you came in, I was burning some incense –a new recipe. It didn't work out the way I expected. You," she added, looking at Sara, "You are allergic to the incense –you started coughing the minute you entered the room. But I didn't put anything illegal in it. Only cloves and oregano. It was meant to help you relax-"

"Wait a minute," Sara interrupted, "You put cloves in it?"

"Is that relevant?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, it might," Sara muttered. "I, hum, can't eat anything with cloves."

Mamá Lupita was happy to have Sara confirm her theory. "There you go." She said.

Nick wasn't that convinced.

"So, you're saying that she passed out due to an _allergic_ reaction?"

"Well, no. I mean, yes. She started feeling dizzy; she pushed her chair away; the chair broke, she fell…"

Sara rubbed her temples with one hand. It all made sense now.

"It was a dream, then." she said, and she didn't know whether to rejoice or to mourn the fact that nothing had really happened between her and Grissom. "So everything I saw, and everything I said…" she paused. She abruptly looked up, "Did I _say_ anything?"

Nick and Mamá Lupita glanced at each other.

"Uh, no." Nick said. "You didn't say anything."

"Nope," Mamá Lupita said, "Not a word. Nothing about bears, or any -" but she stopped when she noticed the warning look that Nick shot her. "Nothing."

Sara groaned, more embarrassed than ever.

"We better go," she said wearily.

"Are you sure?" Nick asked, offering her a hand, "If you were hallucinating -"

"Let's go, Nick." Sara said, with determination. She felt a bit stiff, but she rose and managed to stand on her own.

Nick walked to the door, but he turned to address Mamá Lupita.

"This isn't over," he said sternly, "I'll have a word with your nephew. If Det. Vega sees nothing wrong with his aunt earning a living like this, then we won't do anything, but… Until then, you better not use those herbs again, Mamá Lupita." And with that parting shot, he left.

Sara was about to follow him, when she felt a hand restraining her.

"You said you wanted his complete devotion," Mamá Lupita whispered, "That's what I gave you."

"What you gave me?" Sara was indignant, "What you gave me was the worst nightmare I've ever had!"

"That was the cloves' fault!" the old lady replied, "I only wanted you to dream a little; to know what his devotion would be like -"

"Well, it's not what I wanted!" Sara retorted, but Mamá Lupita's skeptical look made her falter a little, "All right, maybe I did," she said testily, "But I didn't want a drug-induced hallucination; all I wanted -"

"You wanted him to be as devoted as you are." The old lady said.

This made Sara pause. She had a vague recollection of Gil's face, and his look of blind devotion. Was that what she really wanted?

"I better go." She muttered. She closed the door and walked away. Fast.

She quickly caught up with Nick, who was talking on the phone.

"We've got to go back," he said when he was finished. "The sheriff wants us to concentrate on a specific area of the shooting."

They went back to the car in utter silence. Before they got in, Sara turned.

"Nick?" Sara said earnestly, "Whatever I said…"

"…It's already forgotten." Nick replied. He smiled. "Ok?"

"Ok." Sara said. She glanced at him, "Thanks."

But Nick wasn't finished. He was smiling widely.

"What?" Sara frowned.

"Nothing," he said, obviously trying hard not to burst into laughs.

"What… what?"

"Nothing, it's just… You're such a wimp! I mean, _cloves_? A pinch of cloves and you're out?"

"Hey, in my defense…!" she started. Then she realized there was nothing she could say in her defense. "Ah, just forget it." She muttered testily. "Let's go. We've got a lot of work to do." _Thank God,_ she might have added.

From now on, she told herself, work was all she was going to devote herself to.

* * *

TBC

Actually, the story was going to end here, with Sara's life returning to normal. However, there's a little epilogue coming up, with Grissom in it, (the real Grissom, that is).


	4. Chapter 4

MAMA LUPITA

Epilogue

Spoiler: A bullet runs through it, part two, Burden of Proof, Mea Culpa, Nesting Dolls, Scuba Doobie Do

This chapter starts right after Gil demonstrates how the perp threw the gun up in the red-clay roof (in ABRTI part two), and a couple of hours after "Mamá Lupita" ended.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Once it was clear that Gil's theory was correct, Cops and IA officials turned their backs on the CSIs and walked away, deep in conversation.

Gil turned to Hodges and handed him the guns they'd used in the demonstration.

"Good job, Hodges," he said.

The Trace expert took the guns in silence. He didn't seem his usual cocky self, and this may have had something to do with the fact that Sara had been able to throw the guns up the roof, while he hadn't even tried.

"I didn't help much," Hodges said self-consciously.

"Yes, you did," Gil replied, "You brought us the guns just in time for the demonstration."

"Oh," Hodges said, perking up, "Yeah. I drove fast. In fact," he added smugly, "I ran a couple of red lights just to get here."

"Take the guns back to Bobby," Grissom said, "And add this information to your report."

"Sure, boss," Hodges said.

Sara watched as Hodges walked away with his head held up high; evidently, Grissom's words had soothed his bruised ego.

She smiled; Gil always knew what to say –

Or did he?

Her smile diminished as she realized that Grissom did not always know what to say –not when it came to anything that was not related to work, that is. How many times had he stayed mum when he should have said something…?

But she quickly stopped that line of thought. '_Stop it,' _she admonished herself. '_You promised not to think about that anymore. Now, go back to work.'_

Sara discreetly glanced at Gil as they walked back to the parking lot. She didn't remember much of her clove-induced visions, but there were a couple of images that refused to vanish from her mind -like the way their bodies met and moved like one...

'_Stop it!' _

Sara sighed. Her Oh, how she wished she had never gone to Mamá Lupita's house…

"You ok?" Gil asked as he put the ladder in the back of his van.

"I'm fine." She replied in a business-like manner. "So," she added, "I guess I should go back to the -"

"Not yet," he said. He motioned her to the passenger door, "Hop in."

"What?"

"Get in," he said, walking to the driver's door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'd like to grab a bite."

Her eyebrows rose.

"You want to eat? Now?"

"I'm hungry," he said, opening the driver's door. "I haven't eaten in twelve hours, and neither have you."

"But the sheriff said..."

"Sara," he interrupted, "We've just cleared two cops from any wrong-doing in a shooting. We set their minds at ease and we saved the PD from being hit with a multimillion-dollar suit," he paused, "I believe you and me deserve a half-hour break."

She opened her mouth again, but she had run out of objections. Besides, he was right. They deserved a break.

- - - - - - - - - -------

They chose a small restaurant whose main attraction was the small garden at the front. There were a couple of empty tables, and Sara chose one of them.

Gil had insisted on buying, and he brought the tray to their table. He placed a salad in front of her. She eyed his plate. He had ordered a vegetarian burger, very possibly in deference to her.

She smiled, acknowledging his gesture.

They didn't talk after a few initial comments about the food. They would glance at each other now and then, but that was all.

So, his next words took her by surprise.

"So, Sara," he said, "What's going on in your life?"

"What do you mean?"

"We haven't talked much lately," he said. "I'd like to know what you've been doing lately. Have you read anything? Watched a movie?"

She hesitated. She wasn't sure whether he was genuinely interested or if he merely wanted to fill the silence with small talk. But she quickly dismissed that last part: Gil liked silence, and when he broke it, it was for a reason.

"Well…" she started, "I've been doing some volunteer work at a local shelter -"

"Really?" he asked cautiously. Grissom pictured Sara working with abused women, and he didn't like the idea. She needed a diversion, not more angst.

"An animal shelter." she added tentatively.

This wasn't something Sara cared to discuss with everybody, since people rarely thought of animal shelters as a priority. But Grissom had always had a soft spot for endangered species and nature in general, so it was possible that he'd be interested.

It looked like he was. He motioned her to continue.

"Some college students and me." Sara added, warming up to the subject. "It's a good cause."

"What made you become involved?"

"Well, I used to make cash contributions. It seemed that was enough, until one day I found out that most of the money ended up in the administrators' pockets. So..." she shrugged, "I decided to do something about it."

"A little hands-on participation." He suggested.

"Exactly," she said. "We've really made a difference, Grissom," she added, "We are providing hospitals with therapy pets; the number of animals put to sleep has decreased -"

"Good for you," he said sincerely.

Between bites of salad, Sara told him all about the shelter.

"Of course, we can't save them all," she said after a moment. "To tell you the truth, at first I didn't know if I'd be able to handle that part. I mean, we see so much death in our jobs, I didn't want to face death on my day off, too. But then I thought how doing nothing could be worse in the long run, so..."

Grissom looked thoughtfully at her for a moment.

"Yes." He said softly. "Doing nothing can be worse, sometimes."

He seemed lost in his own thoughts -gloomy thoughts.

She tried to distract him from them.

"By the way," she said casually, "I'm thinking of taking up Spanish."

"Spanish?" he seemed surprised.

She smiled, enjoying his reaction.

"Yes. It will broaden my horizons, I think. And it could be useful at work."

"It's a beautiful language." Grissom said simply. He stared at her for a moment, and then he looked away.

To her utter surprise, he said,

**_Esta cobardía de mi amor por ella_**

**_Hace que le vea igual que a una estrella_**

**_Tan lejos, tan lejos en la inmensidad_**

**_Que no espero nunca poderla alcanzar_**

"Is that a poem?" she asked.

"A song," he said. "A very old one."

"What does it mean?"

He smiled faintly.

"You'll find out, if you learn Spanish."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Give me two months, and I will."

He smiled and looked down.

It looked like he was withdrawing again, and she didn't want their conversation to end so soon.

"What about you?" she said, "What have you been doing lately?"

"Oh," he said, "Not much."

"I don't believe that."

He took a deep breath. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

"It's been a tough year." He said. He hesitated and then he added, "I've made some bad decisions lately, Sara."

"We all make them sometime." She said dismissively.

"But my decisions affect others." He said. He kept his gaze on her until she looked up. He cleared his throat, and said, "She lost her promotion because of me, Sara."

She slowly put down her fork.

She should have known he'd want to talk about Sofia.

"I know she did." She said quietly. "It's what makes it so difficult to dislike her."

He smiled faintly at this.

She took a deep breath.

"I guess I went over the line, this morning," she said, "I had no right to tell her to leave your office."

"Actually, you did," he said simply, "She was compromising the case by coming to the lab. You were following protocol; she was not." He paused, "And yet… I can't help thinking that if it had been somebody else, you wouldn't have been so adamant. You would have tried to help."

She looked down at her half-empty plate.

"I don't know about that -" she said evasively.

"You would have helped her if it weren't for me."

Sara looked up sharply. He had never been this direct.

"You are a kind woman, Sara." Grissom said gently. "Don't ever let anyone or anything change that part of you. Not me, not the job…"

She looked away for a moment.

"It's just… _hard_ to trust her." She said. She glanced at him, "She worked with Ecklie for _five_ years, Grissom. There's got to be something wrong with her." But she said it with a slight tilt in the tone of her voice, and a faint smile on her face.

He smiled back.

"I used to think like that -"

"Until she stood up to Ecklie." She said.

Gil looked thoughtfully at her.

"Come to think of it," he said, "_You_ stood up to him for me, too."

"Oh, he was asking for it," she said dismissively.

But Gil didn't take the matter lightly. He shook his head with something close to regret, and then he said, "I've let others fight my battles for too long, Sara."

"Friends help each other," She said tentatively. "I mean, _you_ stood up to Ecklie for me too. I appreciate that."

Grissom smiled. And then, without thinking, he reached and gently touched her cheek.

She froze.

Grissom almost dropped his hand when he realized what he was doing, but something made him change his mind. He wanted to touch her face -why shouldn't he?

Defying her questioning look -and his own misgivings- he brushed her cheek again.

"You've got, hum, a little salad dressing -" he said as sole explanation.

Chagrined, she reached to touch her face, but he gently waved her hand away.

"No, it's ok," he said, rubbing her cheek with his thumb, "I'll get it."

Her heart was beating fast.

"That, hum, seems like more than just a bit of salad dressing," she said after a moment.

"It seems so, yes." he said brazenly.

"Are you saying I'm a sloppy eater?" she teased.

He smiled.

"There," he said, withdrawing his hand at last.

Her cheeks were burning, and so were his. To hide his confusion, he picked up a paper bag that had been resting by his side.

"Finish your salad," he said gruffly, "I've got us some dessert."

"What did you get?"

He rummaged inside the bag and took a small container from it.

"Chopped fruit for you, pie for me."

"Pie?" she asked, wistfully looking at the triangular box that he'd set aside for himself. "What kind of pie?"

"Pecan."

"I could have eaten pie, you know." She said testily. "I'm not on a diet."

"I know," he said, not missing a beat, "But the filling has cloves in it -I asked." He looked up, "You hate cloves, don't you?"

Sara stared at him. At any other time, this comment would have passed unobserved; but after the events of the day –after meeting Mamá Lupita- it made her stop and take notice.

He _knew_ her, she realized.

She smiled.

"I like you, you know?" she said, and she sounded as if she had never realized this until now.

He seemed surprised, but after a moment he smiled too.

"I like you, too." He said.

She smiled. She was about to turn her attention back to her salad, when a sudden thought occurred to her.

"Have you ever heard of an island called St. Vivienne, Grissom?"

"Home of the Thoreau Beetle?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Yeah! Did you see the National Geographic the other day?"

"Sure," he said, clearly warming up to the subject, "Did you see the part where the beetle -"

And on he went.

Sara smiled.

Now, _this_ was the Gil she loved.

- - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - ---------- - - - - - -------------------

THE END.

This a _very_ loose translation of the song that Gil mentioned.

"Esta Cobardía" (This Cowardice) (Excerpt)

My cowardly love for her

makes me see her like a star,

So, so far away in the sky,

that I can never hope to reach her


	5. Chapter 5

MAMA LUPITA

Epilogue

It's karaoke night and everyone's got to sing something. Even Grissom. Even Sara, who opts to sing a song… in Spanish. Will Gil get the message?

There's a glossary at the end.

* * *

Gil Grissom got out of his car and joined his colleagues from the night shift; they were in the parking lot of Sal's Dinner, waiting for their guest of honor, Albert Robbins. It was Doc Robbins' 30th anniversary as a coroner, and they'd decided to take him to dinner to celebrate. 

When the doc appeared, he and Gil led the group to the dinner.

"Wow, look at that," Robbins said, pointing at the huge banner that hung at the entrance.

Gil looked up and abruptly stopped. The banner read, "Karaoke night," and as soon as he saw it, Gil knew he was in for a nightmare.

Behind him, Catherine tapped his shoulder.

"What is it?" she asked impatiently. "It says Karaoke night."

Gil said, turning and looking accusingly at her. She had planned the event, after all. "Oh, yeah," Catherine said casually, "Did I forget to mention that?"

"Yes, you did," he glared.

"Sorry." She shrugged, obviously not sorry at all.

"Uh, Grissom?" Nick said, "We've got to be back at the lab in a couple of hours, so…"

Reluctantly, Gil entered the dinner.

Gil Grissom was not the only one who objected to being there on Karaoke night. Sara Sidle had stopped in her tracks as soon as she read the banner, and now she was discreetly glancing around, gauging the possibility of escape.

Unfortunately for her, Nick guessed her intentions. He firmly steered her inside.

"Come on, Sara. It'll be fun."

"Making a fool of myself isn't fun," she muttered.

"Sara, I've heard you sing," he said. "You've got nothing to worry about."

"Nick, I don't mind if somebody accidentally hear me singing to myself. Doing it in public's another thing altogether!"

Nick only smiled.

* * *

The CSIs chose the best table, and then they spent a happy quarter of an hour perusing the menu and the list of songs available. 

"So, Sara?" Catherine asked loudly, "You ready to sing?"

"Oh, no. You don't want me to sing," Sara said self-deprecatingly.

"Everyone's gonna sing tonight," Catherine replied, "Right, Grissom?" she said, turning to her boss.

"I don't sing." Gil said austerely.

Catherine scoffed.

"Yeah, well, you also said you'd never come here on karaoke night."

Grissom was nervously drumming his fingers on the table. The last time he'd been here they'd had a great time giving Warrick a belated bachelor's party, and this was one of the reasons he didn't hesitate to come tonight. But the place had been half-empty then and, more importantly, they still hadn't introduced Karaoke singing. Now, the place was packed.

Gil glanced at the makeshift stage on the corner, wondering what to do. He could plead a sore throat… Or maybe he could simply claim that he didn't know any of the songs on the list.

That seemed like a perfect solution until Greg yelled from the other side of the table, "Hey, Grissom! You're in luck! There's a couple of Pink Floyd's songs on the list!"

Gil's heart sank. The drumming restarted.

Salvation came when Doc Robbins announced that he wanted to sing a Bob Seger song but wasn't sure if he could pull it off. Gil practically jumped up, offering to sing it with him. Gil and Robbins sat together for a while, discussing their options. They even offered to sing first. They stepped on the stage and sang:

_Until you've been beside a man  
You don't know what he wants  
You don't know if he cries at night…_

Sara perked up. She vaguely remembered hearing this song before, but Grissom and Robbins' version had its charms. She smiled as the two self-conscious men pour their souls into their singing.

_Where nothing comes easy, old nightmares are real  
Until you've been beside a man  
You don't know how he feels_

Gil took a solo:

_But once inside a woman's heart  
A man must keep his head  
Heaven opens up the door  
Where angels fear to tread  
Some men go crazy, some men go slow  
Some men go just where they want  
Some men never go_

Then Robbins joined him for the chorus:

_But, oh, blame it on midnight  
Ooh, shame on the moon… _

Greg pulled out his cell and took a half-dozen pictures of the two men. Then, as the song winded down, Greg turned to his coworkers and, holding his cell phone like a microphone, he said,

"This is VH1's Where are they Now? Tonight, we followed the careers of Al Robbins and Gil Grissom. Their long journey ended the way it started, in an obscure café in Las Vegas. As the last chords of their immortal hit song faded away, the two old rock stars turned to -"

"_Old_ rock stars?" Gil interrupted. He was standing right behind Greg, whose eyes bulged when he realized that his boss had been listening all along. He sheepishly turned to look at Gil.

"Did I say old?" he asked, "I meant golden. Yeah, _golden_ rock stars."

"Sure you did," Gil said skeptically. "Your turn," he added, handing him the microphone. "I expect a great show from you, _young_ Sanders."

Poor Greg was subdued as he took on the stage.

------------------------------------------------------

Sara was sweating bullets; her turn to sing was coming up. She'd browsed the list in desperation, trying to find something cheerful to sing. The problem was that she didn't know many cheerful songs. Her favorite singers all seemed to favor gloomy, thoughtful stuff; not the kind that would be appropriate for a celebration like this.

Finally, Sara turned to the last part of the list -songs in other languages. A smile spread on her face.

'Oh, yes.' She thought.

Catherine, who had been cajoling each of the CSIs towards the stage, turned her attention to her.

"So, Sara. Your turn's coming up. You ready?"

"Why, yes, Catherine." Sara said calmly, "I'm going to sing a song in Spanish."

"A what?"

"I've been taking lessons." Sara explained. She kept her gaze on Catherine, but she was aware that Gil had looked up sharply the minute she said she was going to sing in Spanish. "I've been taking lessons with Detective Vega's aunt."

"Really?" was all Catherine could say.

Sara confidently walked up to the stage and conferred with the DJ –actually, one of the waitresses, who abandoned her duties every time someone new got up to sing. The girl nodded and went down to prepare the new song.

To everybody's surprise, she also dimmed the lights on the stage. For a moment, Sara stood in shadows.

"A song in Spanish," Catherine mused aloud, "Didn't see that one coming," and she glanced at her coworkers, who were all looking expectantly at Sara.

All, except Grissom, who pretended to be really thirsty. He was drinking his orange juice the way a desperate man drains tequila. He had the feeling that something big was about to happen.

And suddenly, Sara spoke clearly into the microphone:

_No se da ni cuenta que cuando lo miro, _

_por no delatarme me guardo un suspiro _

_Que por mi amor por él callado, se enciende con verlo _

_y que daría la vida por poseerlo._

Grissom choked. She was reciting lines from the same song he had quoted to her a couple of months before. She had simply adapted the lyrics.

_No se da ni cuenta que le he concedido _

_los calidos besos que no me ha pedido, _

_que en mis noches tristes desiertas de sueño, _

_en loco deseo me siento su dueña_

Gil knew he shouldn't be surprised. Sara's curiosity was boundless. She must have memorized the words he said, and then she must have asked around until she found out which song he'd been quoting.

Now a melody started, and Gil looked up just in time to see the lights flood the stage again.

Sara started to sing:

_Si te dijeron que anduve  
vagando en la madrugada_

_y que de pronto un recuerdo_

_me ilumino la mirada,_

_sabrás que estaban hablando de ti,  
porque aunque no diga nada,  
sueño contigo, sueño contigo_.

Grissom was mesmerized. It was evident that she knew what the words meant –she was not simply parroting the lyrics. How could she have learned the language so quickly?

The joy she felt at singing the song was contagious; soon, people were joining in, not in the actual singing of the song, but clapping along.

Grissom didn't join in; he was too focused on her to think of doing anything but listen.

_Si te preguntas qué pienso  
cuando me ves distraída,  
cuando te miro en silencio  
y sin querer me sonrío,  
sabrás que siempre se trata de tí  
porque despierta o dormida,_

_sueño contigo, sueño contigo._

_Toda la vida he soñado contigo  
porque mis pasos regresan a ti_

_al fin de cada camino,  
sueño contigo, sueño contigo,_

_por donde quiera que vaya  
yo siempre sueño contigo._

Sara returned to her table on rubbery legs, and her coworkers welcomed her with hugs.

Catherine, whose turn was next, rose and hugged her too.

"Yours is a tough act to follow!" Catherine said peevishly.

Sara laughed.

Catherine waved her hand at the waitress to indicate that she was next, and then she took off her jacket with a swift movement… and revealed the skimpy top she was wearing underneath.

Everyone in the dinner cheered.

Sara looked around for a seat. Now that most of the CSIs were standing and cheering, she had her choice of places to sit. She chose the chair opposite Grissom's.

She smiled at him.

"It's hard to compete with that," she said ruefully, tilting her head in Catherine's direction.

Grissom kept his gaze on Sara.

"Did you like the song?" she asked.

"I did." he said quietly, "Congratulations." He added, "You said you'd learn Spanish in two months, and you did."

"Oh, I still have a long way to go," she said. "But in the meantime, I've learned a few songs."

Grissom nodded.

"Songs and poems are good learning tools." He looked at her, "So, you're studying with Detective Vega's aunt."

"They call her Mama Lupita," Sara smiled.

"I didn't know you and Vega were friendly." he said.

Sara paused. Was there a hint of jealousy in Grissom's question? She thought there was but she wasn't about to ask.

But then, even if she'd known for sure, she wouldn't have used it to her advantage. Sara just wasn't a manipulative woman. She'd refused Mama Lupita's renewed offers to concoct her a love potion, and she'd decidedly balked at the old lady's suggestion that she get a new, sexy wardrobe.

So, instead of trying to pique Gil's interest by suggesting that Vega was indeed a friend, Sara had answered Gil's question truthfully. "I didn't meet her through Vega." She said. "Nick and me came across her during the course of an investigation."

"Oh." He said simply. "Well, all I can say is, she's a good teacher."

"She is," she smiled, "She's absolutely nuts about a singer named José Luis Rodríguez," she said, uttering the name with some difficulty, "She insisted that I learned a couple of his songs."

Gil smiled.

"It came in handy tonight." He said.

"Yeah. I liked this song from the start, you know? It was simple and sweet –unlike most of the songs I knew," she smiled, "Every time I hear it, I'm reminded of all the things that make me happy just by being there -"

"Such as?" He asked, looking enquiringly at her.

She shrugged slightly.

"A full moon," she said, "A garden in bloom… The quiet of the desert…" she glanced at her coworkers, who were raptly watching Catherine's performance, "Friends," she added pointedly, and then she looked back at him, "You." she finished.

Grissom looked down at the table.

"It's true, you know," she said quietly after a moment. "I dream of you."

Grissom looked up but didn't say anything.

She hesitated.

"It makes me happy," she added, and by Gil's silence she knew that she had gone too far.

Well, it wasn't the first time she had, but this time she was not going to apologize or feel bad about it. Instead, she forced herself to smile again.

"So, what about you?" she asked, "What makes you happy?"

Gil hesitated. He was still trying to come to terms with what she'd just said about her dreams, and now, to top it all off, she'd asked him just the sort of question he dreaded: The kind that invited all the wrong answers. One ended up either revealing too much about oneself or saying too little –thus disappointing everybody.

He chose to reveal little.

"The resilience of nature, I guess…" he said cautiously, "Beetles crawling deep in the earth, oblivious to human kind -" he paused, "The sea -"

"The sea?" she seemed surprised.

"I love the sea," Gil said, "Specially at night. There's something about being alone in the middle of the ocean," he said thoughtfully, "There's a feeling of being completely cut off from civilization –even when you have a radio or people around you -"

He knew he was talking too much, but he couldn't help it, "There's a moment when you stand and look around, and you wonder if you're really going to make it back home… and then you look up and you realize you're not lost. The stars will show you the way."

"The stars," she whispered, "Tan lejos, en la inmensidad..."

She was quoting from his song again.

He studiously looked down.

"What is it that you like about the stars, Grissom?" she asked quietly, "That they can guide you back home… or that they're out of reach?"

He looked at her –really looked at her. It seemed he was studying every inch of her face.

"I like them because they're beautiful." He said simply.

She stared back. He didn't say more –but he didn't have to; his love for her was openly revealed in that wistful look he was giving her. It was a look she knew well –it was what had kept her hopes alive all this time.

He looked down after a moment.

She smiled faintly.

"We're two of a kind, aren't we?" She said ruefully, "We're less than two feet apart, and yet, you'd rather look at the stars and I'd rather dream."

It seemed she was going to add something, but she was interrupted by the beep of her pager. She immediately pulled it out. She would not admit it aloud, but the truth was, she was relieved. Another minute, and she wuld have over talked yet again.

Her eyebrow rose.

"Sofia's on duty already." She muttered, "I asked her to page me the minute she found a witness of that jewelry heist we're investigating…" she looked up, "Gotta go," she said.

She rose and went to talk to Doc Robbins. They'd probably meet later at the morgue, but it seemed appropriate to hug him goodbye.

When she returned to pick up her shoulder bag, Grissom was not there anymore.

Sara sighed.

* * *

Sara had left her car in a relatively quiet part of the parking lot, so when she approached it and saw a man standing there, she was understandably wary.

Wariness turned to surprise when she realized it was Grissom. He was standing with his back to her, and he was looking up at the sky.

Not wanting to intrude, Sara merely watched him in silence. She didn't made another sound but he must have recognized her steps, because he spoke without turning to look at her.

"There's a full moon tonight," he said.

Sara didn't look up. She approached him until she was standing by his side.

Gil kept his gaze up in the sky.

"There's lots of stars, too." he said.

Sara only looked at him, studying his profile.

After a moment, he spoke again.

"What if reality doesn't measure up to the dream, Sara?" he asked softly.

The question took her by surprise, and before she could say anything, he added, "It's a scary thought."

She mused on this for a moment.

"Well…" she said at last, "I've always believed that reality will always be infinitely better. But there's really only one way to find out, Griss."

Grissom glanced at her. Sara was looking expectantly at him.

After a moment, Grissom turned and faced her. He waited.

And waited.

He was obviously hoping she'd take the first step, just like she always did… But she didn't move. She was simply staring at him.

Grissom understood then; he was the one who harbored all those scary thoughts; he needed to overcome them by himself.

After a moment, he took a step closer and tentatively reached for her. He didn't quite know where to put his hands at first. One found its rightful place around her waist, while the other moved hesitatingly from her shoulder to her cheek, until it finally settled on the nape of her neck.

He stepped even closer, and Sara smiled when he did this. She liked the fact that for Gil, kissing was a full body contact experience. She didn't like it when guys pursed their lips and stretched their necks-

And that's when it hit her –the fact that Gil _was_ going to kiss her. But all these thoughts blurred at the first contact of Gil's mouth on hers. His mouth _and_ his body _and_ his hands…

Sara confidently wrapped her arms around him under the warmth of his leather jacket (_faux-leather_ jacket, she happily noticed), and pulled him closer. She believed in full-body contact experiences, too.

He pulled back after a moment, and looked at her. Sara smiled dreamily.

"Mmmmh. Qué maravilloso eres," she whispered.

He shook his head.

"Mais non." He whispered, "C'est toi qui est merveilleuse."

Her eyes bulged.

"_French_?" she exclaimed in dismay, "You speak French, too?"

But Grissom only laughed and pulled her for another kiss.

* * *

THE END

"Que maravilloso eres," would translate as "You're so wonderful."

"Mais non. C'est toi qui est merveilleuse," would translate as: "Nah, you're the one who is wonderful."

This is a very loose translation of the lines Sara quoted from, "Esta Cobardía"

_He doesn't know that every time I see him, _

_my secret love is awaken; _

_that I have to hold back a sigh so no one suspects. _

_He doesn't know that in dreams _

_I've given him the sweet kisses he's never asked for, _

_and that in those lonely nights, _

_in the secrecy of my room _

_I've had him completely._

This is a very loose translation of the song SUEÑO CONTIGO:

_If they told you they saw me wandering at midnight_

_And that suddenly, a memory seemed to light up my eyes,_

_You should know it was because of you_

_'cause even though I never say it_

_I dream of you, I dream of you_

_When I can't have you by my side,_

_I dream of you, I dream of you_

_If you wonder what's in my mind_

_whenever you see me distracted_

_or when I look at you in silence,_

_a secret smile on my lips;_

_You should know it's because of you_

_'cause awake or asleep, I dream of you, I dream of you_

_'Cause my steps keep taking me back to you_

_at the end of each road,_

_I dream of you_

_Wherever I go, I dream of you, I always dream of you_


End file.
